


Yellow Roses

by DumpsterDiving101



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Historical, Boys In Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Flowers, Forbidden Love, Historical, Historical References, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Language of Flowers, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Affair, Secret Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-03 00:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11520552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumpsterDiving101/pseuds/DumpsterDiving101
Summary: Dan has a wife who just loves the bouquets of flowers he keeps getting for her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know about the attractive florist who sends hidden messages with each bouquet that her husband might just be falling for.





	1. Chapter 1

Daniel had never been prouder than on his wedding day.

He had found himself a wife- a beautiful woman named Rose- and everyone congratulated him on his accomplishment. This was in a time when women still lacked certain rights, and heterosexual marriage was a must. So Daniel was beaming as everyone he knew congratulated him on his beautiful wife.

There was one person who didn’t seem so impressed, and it was likely the least important person at the party.

“Ironic,” the florist, a tall, raven haired man named Phil said. “Yellow roses. At a wedding.”

He had said this quietly enough that no one but Dan could hear. “Did you say something?” He scoffed, giving the man a chance to take back his words.

“Yellow roses. You don’t know what they mean, do you?”

And Daniel didn’t. But after the wedding, at the first opportunity, he sent one of the boys who worked on his estate to fetch him a book on the meaning of flowers. Daniel was quite well off, of course- how else would he get such a lovely wife? And surely enough, in the book, under ‘yellow roses’, it had but one word; jealousy.

So it was ironic, he supposed, having flowers that symbolized jealousy at a wedding. But it wasn’t the florist’s job to point it out, and be the sore spot in what would have been a perfect day. Dan decided he would find this man, no, this _boy_ , and have a little talk with him.  


He sent the estate boy out once more with a message for the florist, requesting a lovely bouquet for his wife. And then he waited.

The bouquet was hand delivered by said florist, Phil, right to the doorstep of Dan’s home. “No yellow roses this time. Glad you learned your lesson.”

“You were the one who requested the roses last time,” Phil said with a gleam in his eyes, “but this time, I made the bouquet that I thought was more appropriate. I hope you enjoy them.”

Daniel took the flowers, and glanced behind him, making sure no one was watching. “I… acquired a book on the meaning of flowers. I see why you found it so funny.”

“Yes,” the florist hummed, “then I’m sure you’ll love these flowers. Your wife’s name is Rose, yes? Then there are some flowers… for your flower.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Dan paid him off and brought the flowers inside- not to his wife’s chambers, but to his own study, where he pulled out the book of flowers. In the vase were cute yellow flowers, but not roses, along with flowers that we spiky and orange. After quickly looking them up in the book, Daniel found that they were yellow carnations and orange butterfly weed. They were quite lovely, he had to admit that, but their meanings were disgraceful. Phil knew these flowers were for his wife, how _dare_ he!

Yellow carnations represented rejection, and distain. And butterfly weed expressed the words ‘leave me’. Daniel gave them to his wife, despite the horrid meanings, as he knew they would mean nothing to her, but he felt quite awful about it. He might have been over thinking it- but, there was something wrong about giving your wife flowers that basically spelled out _‘I don’t like you, go away.’_

Rose loved them, completely ignorant of the meanings, the meaning that Phil knew and intentionally arranged to make Dan mad. Why- Dan would just have to speak with him once more.

“I hope these are better,” Daniel said with distaste. “I looked up the meaning.”

“I hoped you would,” Phil said slyly, pushing away his fringe. “Distain and dismissal. Perfect for a new wife.”

Daniel scowled. “What do you have against my wife?”

“Nothing,” he corrected himself, straightening a bit. “Against your wife. I just prefer…. not women.”

They were alone, yet Daniel’s heart seemed to jump out of his skin. “Quiet! Someone might hear you!”

“Someone did hear me. You just did.”

“Well, I’m different, I-”

“Yes?”

Dan shook his head. “Here’s your money. Just go.”

Taking the money, Phil turned, but then stopped, glancing back at Dan. “One more thing. These flowers…”

“Yes?”

“They aren’t meant for your wife. The meaning…. is for you.”

And then he was gone. And Daniel was left with a bouquet of pink and purple roses.  
—–  
They were actually peach and lavender, Dan soon found out upon consulting his book. He also looked up the meanings, as always, and wasn’t sure if his book was accurate or not. Maybe Phil had a different reference, or perhaps he thought the flowers were different than what he thought they were.

_“These flowers… aren’t meant for your wife,”_ Phil had said. _“The meaning… is for you.”_

What was that supposed to mean? Dan must be wrong. Surely…. surely it was an accident.

According to the book, peach roses represented different things, depending on if they were pale peach or not. Dan wasn’t sure what these were, but pale peach stood for modesty, and normal peach stood for “Appreciation, sincerity, ‘let’s get together’, and gratitude”, Dan read out loud. “So, basically they could be used to humbly ask someone out.”

It was a weird choice of flowers, for sure. But the other flowers were even stranger. “Lavender roses stand for… love at first sight or enchantment.”

“Daniel?” Someone asked, making him literally jump in his seat. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just myself, Sweetheart,” Dan said through his teeth. He’d forgotten he was in the parlor, not in his study.

“Oh,” Rose said, looking at the items in front of Dan. “More flowers? For me?”

_Actually, they’re mine,_ Dan thought, but obviously that wasn’t right. “Yes my dear, roses. Did you know they symbolize love?”

She giggled, taking the bouquet and admiring it flimsily. “You’ve always been so peculiar,” she teased, “though I suppose it’s why I love you.”

_Yes, that and the fact that your parents wanted you married before you became an old maid, Dan thought bitterly. And I just happened to have the biggest house out of your suitors._

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled at his wife, and gave her a small kiss.

“I do love all the flowers I’ve been receiving lately,” Rose said, still smiling at the roses. “It’s very kind of you.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll be getting many more.”

—-  
And she did. Rose got all of the flowers that Dan bought, and Dan did buy many. Each order took a few days to complete, and then had to be hand delivered to his house, which was a bit of a ways from town.

After the roses, Dan sent in another request, though this time he specified the flowers he wanted: 'a mixture of yellow chrysanthemums and stripes carnations’.

However, when Phil came to the door a few days later, he did not hold the flowers that represented 'optimism and a long life’, 'loyal love’, and 'refusal’. Instead he held a bouquet of bright red chrysanthemums, which Dan already knew the meaning of; love.  
“I think you miswrote your order, Daniel.”

“It’s Mr. Howell.”

“Anyways, I corrected it for you. I hope you enjoy them.”

“They’re for my wife.”

Phil took the money from his hand and tipped his hat, leaving.

Phil didn’t seem to get that Dan was married, and therefore uninterested. He kept on sending him more and more beautiful flowers, dazzling arrangements of roses and tulips, yellow hydrangeas and white hyacinths. Dan kept on ordering flowers, requesting flowers that meant 'rejection’ and 'loyalty’, and receiving flowers that meant 'love’ and 'romance’. Dan had to admit, he found their little game rather…. charming.

Finally, one day, Dan sent a message different from the others. He requested a mix of roses, which his book described as saying “I don’t know what my feelings are yet but I sure do like you enough to send you roses.” Or, in this case, “I like you enough to buy roses from you.” It didn’t matter. Dan was sure the meaning would come across.

He wrote the flower request and went out to find the boy who worked on the estate, the same boy that he always gave the flower requests to. He was a sweet boy who never doubted him, and with whom he trusted the letters with, though they were somewhat coded. But Dan couldn’t find him.

“Rose?” He asked, rushing into the parlor where his wife sat with her lady friends, having tea. “Do you know where the estate boy is? I can’t find him.”

An uncomfortable blush rose on his wife’s cheeks. “Let’s speak outside, by the gardens.”

His wife was speaking code too, but not about flowers. Her code translated to: _Let’s talk about it somewhere else, where my friends can’t hear._

Outside, in the company of the gardens- though the flowers were hardly comparable to Phil’s- his wife turned to him firmly. For a second, Dan worried she knew something of the messages he’d been sending, but when she spoke, it was about something different altogether. “I caught the estate boy… fraternizing… with the boy who works in the stables. I told him to pack his things, and I wanted to tell you so you could fire him.”

Icy raced up Dan’s spine. “They were… fraternizing?”

“Kissing,” Rose clarified, clearly horrified at the image of two boys touching lips. “You must call the authorities; have them locked up for their crimes. I feel… horrible, so horrible, knowing that I’ve let this happen for so long without realizing it.”

“Yes, thank you for telling me,” Dan mumbled. “I’ll have to… take care of it.”

His wife thanked him and went inside, back to the ladies waiting for her. But Dan went, instead, to the stables. “Give this to the florist, the tall one-”

“From the wedding?” The boy interjected.

“Don’t interrupt,” Dan warned. “You’re in enough trouble already.”

Dan stayed and watched as the boy saddled up a horse to leave. He stayed still, watching the young man, the gay young man, ride away, the letter in his bag. _Mixed roses- confused feelings, but feelings none the less._

Dan didn’t know how he felt. But he knew that he did feel something, and whatever that something was was definitely illegal. He should stop contacting the florist. He should pretend whatever it was that happened within him, doesn’t happen again.

But he couldn’t help but wait in anticipation for the flowers to arrive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil sends Dan a flower arrangement with a message complete with a date, time, and place for a meeting.

The response to Dan's message requesting mixed roses took over a week to come. It was so long, in fact, that Dan considered marching down to the flower shop himself and demanding to know why he was being ignored. But he was too busy handling the legal affairs around his home to leave for an afternoon to chew out a certain florist, so he had to wait.

He didn't want to fire the two workers, the estate and stable boys who were caught kissing by Rose. But it was against the law, and such immoral acts were punishable by prison, at the very least. Rose continued to insist they go to the authorities, and though he didn't like it, Daniel put his foot down as the head of the house and demanded she leave him to decide it on his own. She stormed away, and Dan hoped the new bouquet of flowers came in soon. He would have to apologize.

But then Dan was left to decide, on his own. Rose's teatime friends had found out, and now everyone had heard the gossip. People knew what was going on, and Dan couldn't just let the boys off with a free pass.

But word got around fast, and before too long Dan was notified the Police were at his door. "I assume this is about the two boys?"

"Yes, may we come in?"

"Certainly." Dan looked around, and pointed to the first staff person he saw. "You. Bring out some tea to the parlor."

In the parlor- tea in hand- Dan explained how he found out, and how the boys were still working until further notice. "Amazing," one of the men grumbled, his chubby fingers gripping the tea cup clumsily, "you aren't completely disgusted by their presence."

Alarm bells went off in Dan's mind, but he forced himself to retain his composure. "Yes, well, they do good work. I don't want to let them go, good help is so hard to come by these days."

The officers nodded absently. "Well, you'll have to. It'd be a long sentence too, a few years at best."

"Yes, of course," the other officer, the one with the clumsy grip on his tea agreed groggily. "Though, it is under our jurisdiction. I'm sure... well, we could be convinced to help you out."

Their message was made perfectly clear. A bribe. "Yes, I suppose we could... come to an understanding. A reduced sentence, perhaps?"

So they talked money, for quite a while, until Dan was called back to the front door. "Good God, what is it this- oh. The flowers." What Dan meant to say was _'Oh good, you haven't forgotten me,'_ but he hardly could say such a thing. "The price?"

Phil told him how much these particular flowers cost- more than most of the others, not that it mattered much- and eyed Dan as he dug around, getting out the coins. "Here you are. Now if you'd excuse me, I have guests."

"Thank you." Phil spoke hesitantly, like he was trying to choose out his words carefully. "These ones.... will wilt quickly. I'd advise you to admire them soon."

_Translation: Dan needs to interpret the meaning behind the flowers today._

So these flowers were different.

\-----

The flowers were very different indeed. The first of the bundle, with white petals that hadn't opened yet, didn't even have a meaning, just a name: White Morning-Glories, or rather, Moonflowers. Apparently, they only bloomed at nighttime. Along with that, the most prominent piece in the bouquet was slender green stalks with soft brown ends: cattail. Dan plucked one from the arrangement, eying it carefully. It was no flower. It looked much harsher than all of the flowers Dan had received so far, and with a start, Daniel realized that Phil must not have grown it himself. Which meant, he picked them up on his way to Dan's home. And there was only one place that could be.

Checking his flower guide- honestly, more like a flower bible- Dan confirmed his suspicion. These plants only grew in water. Yes, Dan knew exactly where these were picked.

Flowers that only bloomed at night, and plants that only grew in a grove nearby. _"I'd advise you to admire them quickly,"_ Phil had suggested.

He had a time and a place. Tonight. The grove, by the stream.

There was one flower left. But Dan didn't need to look up the meaning of red roses.

\-----

In the pocket of his heavy coat, Dan carried one of each of the past day's flowers: a Moonflower, because he wanted to see it unfold under the light of the (almost) full moon, a cattail, so he could make sure he found the right patch, and a rose. Because it looked nice, and completed the trio. What? Dan didn't need justification for everything.

He took a candle with him for some light, though the moon was so bright it was hardly needed. Daniel just hoped that he'd read the flowers right.

He found the river, and then followed it until he found a patch of cattails that looks right. Settling on the ground, Dan waited.

The night felt very quiet, and Dan might have felt lonely if it weren't for the chirping of dozens of crickets, none of which bothered him. Though it didn't make complete sense to him, Dan's heart was pounding.

He waited an hour, at least. But it wasn't painful. In fact.... in fact, Dan fell into a sort of trance, the sounds of nature surrounding him, the warm coat engulfing him.

"You came."

And there that feeling was again, that feeling that Dan wasn't allowed. "Yes. And so did you."

Phil's laughter filled the empty night, though it wasn't too loud as to let anyone know of their whereabouts. What they were doing- whatever it was, that they were doing- had to remain a secret. "Put out that candle, will you? The whole town doesn't need to know we're here."

Dan reached for the candle, then hesitated.

Phil stepped forwards, his own coat loose against his form, unlike Dan's, which he clutched against his chest. And there was another feeling, like Dan was just realizing what he was doing and how dangerous it was. He didn't bring a weapon. If this florist of all people wanted him dead.... well, the odds were definitely against him.

Phil noted his hesitation and chuckled. "Are you scared?"

"No." _Maybe._

"I don't bite."

_But will you, if I ask?_ Dan shook the ridiculous thought out of his head, quickly putting out the candle. "I'm not scared. You tend to flowers for a living."

Phil grinned, sitting beside him on the ground easily, admiring the stream in the moonlight. "True. I'm glad you found your way here."

Dan could feel the flowers in his pocket, and reached in, presenting them to Phil. "It wasn't so hard. Moonflower, cattail, and rose."

"I think roses are my favorite," Phil said quietly, with something that vaguely resembled vulnerability. "They... have so much meaning, behind them. And they look so natural, with every other flower. What did your Rose think of the bouquet?"

The question took Dan aback. For whatever reason, bringing up his wife didn't seem appropriate. "She loved it. We were fighting, and I suppose the flowers made her love me again."

"Oh?" Phil asked, his voice soft, and gentle, but held some sort of danger that Dan didn't recognize. "Her love is bought with flowers?"

It was an insult, but Dan shrugged. The florist wasn't wrong.

But the mentioning of his wife brought Dan back to reality. And in reality, he was sitting next to a male florist in the woods, in the dark, talking about his wife. "I don't know what I'm doing here," Dan admitted. "Your flowers.... they aren't right."

"What?" Phil asked, clearly taking a personal offense.

"No no, the flowers are beautiful," Dan backtracked, trying to recover. "But their messages.... Phil, they aren't very appropriate."

Phil turned away, looking forwards at the river a little ways before them. "Because you have a wife?"

Dan groaned, digging his fingers through his hair. "Yes! No! I just- there are two boys who work for me, who were caught kissing- each other. And they'll be going to prison! Phil, whatever it is you want.... it's not allowed."

It was quiet for a few long seconds, Phil not answering. Dan was trying to reject him, trying to be reasonable, but it wasn't like he _wanted_ to deny Phil. He had no choice!

"Why do you care what happens to them?" Phil wondered aloud. "The boys, I mean. Why do you care?"

Now that was a question Dan wasn't allowed to answer. Not when his wife asked, not when the police asked. He couldn’t even answer when the actual boys asked him with their eyes, trying to make sense of why their employer, whom they betrayed, would ever bother trying to help them. But Dan wasn't allowed to tell them, wasn't allowed to answer, not to anybody in his life, his real life. But maybe, in the dead of night, hidden by the woods around them and their voices concealed by the chirping of the bugs- maybe he could tell Phil.

"They made a mistake," Dan admitted, his mouth dry. He was becoming increasingly aware of the man next to him, their hands so close they almost touched. "And.... I don't think they should be persecuted for it. Because if I'm being honest...." He turned towards Phil, who was already looking at him, and they were so, so close, and they're fingers touched but Dan refused to pull away.... "If I'm being honest, I'm afraid I'm going to make a mistake too."

He closed his eyes, trying to push everything else out but Phil from his mind. He could feel the boy’s breath on his skin. He smelt like flowers.

"Will we see each other again?" Phil whispered, eyes almost closed. "After tonight?"

Phil was looking at Dan, and Dan was looking at Phil, and they were closer than he remembered. They were closer than allowed.

"I don't know," Dan admitted. "I don't know if there is something after tonight."

"There could be," Phil whispered, as Dan became increasingly aware of how close they were becoming. He could feel Phil's breath on his cheek and it was so, so good and it was so, so wrong.

Dan leant in without realizing and Phil leaned in and the gap was closed, and, and, and, and they were kissing. And it was _illegal._

Dan pulled away, gasping, though it had just been a quick kiss. "We can't."

"Why not?"

Dan stared at him in horror. "I'm married! And even if I wasn't, you... you're a man."

"So?"

"So? So, I'm a man too, and that's wrong!"

"Is it wrong because you believe it is, or because you've been told it is?" Phil spat, growing increasingly angry. "Because I don't know about you Daniel, but that felt right."

"It felt..." Dan started, quieting down, "...like something that I shouldn't have done. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Yes, there is! I shouldn't have done that!"

"There's nothing to forgive!"

His voice was low and quiet, and almost as dangerous as his actions had been. "Forgive. Me."

Phil turned away, refusing to let Dan see his expression. "Fine. You're forgiven."

"Good. I should... I should go."

Every bone in Dan's body told him no, told him to stay, to kiss him again. But Dan pulled himself up to his feet, picking up the unlit candle, and brushing off his coat.

"Wait," Phil stopped him, pulling himself to his feet and reaching inside his own pocket. "I have something for you." Whatever it was, he held it inside his pocket, eyeing Dan carefully as if judging his merits. "But first, I must know. Is this... will I see you again?"

_I can't. I won't. My wife. It's wrong._ "Yes."

"And... and can I kiss you again?"

_No. I can't I won't my wife it's wrong._ "Yes."

So, stepping forwards and standing a little taller as to reach him, Phil gave Dan a lingering kiss that left his lips tingling and his heart pounding. "Moonflowers are hard to grow," Phil whispered. "But I can get you more cattails. You'll know what it means?"

_No I can't I won't my wife it's wrong I love-_ "Yes. I'll understand."

Phil nodded, once more, and pulled whatever it was out of his pocket, placing it in Dan's hands, but Dan couldn't look away from his face to see what it was. "I'll see you again," Phil promised.

"I'll see you again," Dan agreed.

And with that, they parted ways.

\----

It was a blue rose. "Blue roses cannot be achieved naturally," he read, back in the warmth and safety of his bedroom, "and thus have particular value. A pure blue rose is hard, though not incredibly so, to come by. Furthermore, they represent the unattainable or the mysterious. Giving someone a blue rose symbolizes 'I want you but can't have y-'"

"Daniel?"

And once more, he startled, almost dropping his flower bible. "It's late Darling, what are you doing here?"

Rose stood in Dan's doorway, waiting for permission to come in. They slept in their own separate chambers, as was custom, so Rose needed permission to go into her husband's dressing rooms. "I'm sorry to disturb you," she said bashfully, and it was then that Dan realized she was in her dressing gown, not her day clothes. "I just wanted to talk to you. You seemed... upset, earlier."

Dan blinked. "Um... yes, you may come in."

His wife sat on his bed gracefully, leaning back and stretching out her legs, one at a time. For whatever reason, Dan was enthralled by the action, his mind dizzy and unsure. "Yes.... you had something you wanted to tell me?" He remembered, trying to focus.

Rose hummed, closing her eyes. "I miss you."

Chuckling, Dan walked over and sat next to her on the bed. Though in truth- he had been sitting closer to Phil. "You miss me?" He smiled, amused at her words. "Darling, I've been around all day. What is there to miss?"

She stretched more, and Dan realized perhaps she didn't come to talk. "I miss our conversations," she admitted, voice soft and deep, rolling like the stream from before. "I miss.... talking with you. I miss being happy with you. And I miss... something else."

"You've overstepping your boundaries," Dan warned, though he wasn't sure why. Everyone had always told him that he should never let his wife talk to him this way, as if she were his equal. But then again....

_"Is it wrong because you believe it is, or because you've been told it is?"_ Phil had said. And Dan should really think about something other than the words of the silly florist, but he just couldn't forget. _"Well?"_

"I'm sorry," Dan admitted, the words feeling strange on his tongue. "That was... rude, and ungentlemanly of me. Please forgive me."

_"Forgive me."_

_"There's nothing to forgive."_

_"Yes, there is! I should've have done that!"_

_"There's nothing to forgive!"_

"You've been stressed," Rose said, pulling him from his thoughts. "Of course I forgive you."

Her hand was on his arm, and it made Dan feel some type of way. "Rose... why'd you come here tonight?"

She leaned forwards, closer, so both hands were on his shoulders and she was leaning against him, and he could feel her breath but it was different from Phil's. And she didn't smell like flowers, didn't smell like Phil. And Dan didn't know how he felt about that.

"I told you," she muttered, whispered as she leaned in close. And she was so warm, and he was being so stupid, and this was right- this was the right thing, not Phil, not his flirtations, that Dan had to close the gap, kissing his wife because it was right. What happened in the woods was wrong, and this was right. Rose was his wife, and despite how he felt about Phil, he loved her.

Their kiss became deeper than his and Phil's did very quickly. Dan kissed her harder, telling himself this was right.

But he couldn't pretend that how he kept picturing the silly florist's face was anything but wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you like it and/or want more!
> 
> I run a blog devoted to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/). This story was inspired by an ask, which you can submit [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask) :)


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel went through five stages in the process of getting over Phil. 

The first, was regret. He regretted his actions, his illegal, immoral choices that had led to him kissing another man. He promised himself he would never make a mistake like that ever again. He would learn to forget Phil.   
It had been two weeks already with no contact. Daniel shouldn't have been counting.

The second stage was emptiness. Because when you find someone that makes your heart feel full, and you push them away, you can't help but feel like they took your lungs with them. Daniel learned what love was, real love, and without it he felt like he had to relearn how to breathe.   
Who knew that Dan could hold his breath for so long?

The third stage in the process of getting over Phil was denial. They never had anything, Dan insisted, just some flowers and some messages and two simple kisses. He was being silly for not moving on. 

Yes, Dan was silly indeed. 

The fourth stage was misery. As it turns out, learning to breathe again without your lungs is not fun. The fourth stage was also a sort of mixture of the other three: Dan grieved his choices, both kissing Phil and ignoring Phil, got mad at himself for feeling empty, and continued to convince himself the feelings weren’t even real. All while being miserable.

Dan was quite the catch. 

Daniel was still in the fourth stage when the boys who had kissed were given their prison sentence. One year in lock down for committing the unforgivable crime of kissing someone of the same gender. Daniel had told them, letting them know that afterwards they would not be allowed to see each other again. 

Daniel was content being miserable for a while longer. But then _it_ happened, an _it_ that no one was truly prepared for, that sent Dan spiraling over the edge of what he could handle, and before he knew what he was doing he was out the door, his feet leading him where he’d been yearning to go for the past two weeks. And that’s when the fifth and final stage of getting over Phil began.

\-----

It was wrong. It was very, very wrong, but Dan refused to stop walking. He had on his formal jacket, as he always did when he left the house, and put his hands in his pockets casually as he walked. No one had to know what he was planning to do. 

The boys had run away. Dan was still processing what it meant. Apparently, they couldn't stand the thought of being apart. 

Dan's mouth felt dry, and his stomach churned. He didn't relate to them, not one bit. He was doing fine without Phil. 

So they took off, running away with what measly possessions they had. To start a new life, Dan supposed. Together. 

That word hurt. _Together_. Because Dan had felt so lonely these past few days, and together was something he longed for. 

_Together._

After the police left, Dan decided he'd go on a nice little walk to the city. It was at least half an hour away on foot, and normally he would take one of his horses, but as he was in need of a stable boy, that wasn't likely. The two boys also stole his horses. But as far as he could tell, that's all they stole, so he didn't care. They'd get farther that way. 

_Why are you rooting for them?_ Dan thought to himself. _They're criminals!_

He decided not to think about it. He should do his best to avoid relating to them, if at all possible. After all, he had a wife, and-

_Oh, who cares?_

As Dan walked, he admired the flowers on the edge of the road. Not as beautiful as Phil's, but then again, was anything? As beautiful as Phil's flowers, that was, not as beautiful as Phil. Well....

Dan's thoughts were too jumbled to function. 

He could name some of the flowers, anyways. Some were very wild, too wild for his book, and some were just unfamiliar. Others were likely weeds. But every once in a while he'd come across ones that were familiar. A yellow one called Cowslip, with lots of little flower heads shaped like bells. Dan only remembered them because their meaning was very strange. Along with being a symbol of birth and death, they also hinted at mischief and adventure. Such a strange combination and Dan hadn't understood it until just then, as he walked along the country roads about to do something very stupid that could go very horribly.

He considered it for a moment, then reached down and plucked a half dozen stems, quickly hiding them in his jacket pockets. After all, what are those pockets for, if not holding flowers?

The flower that Phil had given him, the allusive blue rose, had held up surprisingly well for having been held in his coat pocket. Dan had stared at it for a lot longer than he should have, thinking about the meaning. "'Giving someone a blue rose symbolizes 'I want you, but can't have you'", Dan said out loud, before realizing what he was doing. He couldn't be seen talking to himself out and about; the townspeople had enough gossip about him without knowing he talked to himself about flowers. 

As the city neared, Dan tried not to think about what he was doing. He had never been to where he was going before, but it shouldn't be too difficult to find. And sure enough, right on the edge of the town was a large greenhouse, attached to a little store. Dan turned and pushed open the door to the store without stopping to consider what he was doing. 

"I'd like to talk to one of your florists," Dan said to the cashier, feeling like an idiot. "Phil... I'm sorry; I don't know what his last name is." 

And suddenly, Dan realized just how ridiculous he was being. He barely knew the man, and here he was, falling for him?

But all of his reserves melted away when Dan saw him. Tall, with messy black hair and wearing hideous gardening clothes that were covered in dirt, and an ever present little smile, not enough to be silly, but enough to show a sort of happiness that very few people had. The smile grew when he saw Dan, but the florist did his best to hide it. "Oh, Da- Mr. Howell. You're here for the tour of the gardens?" 

Dan could barely speak. How could he have missed someone this much, that he hardly even knew?

\----

The gardens started in the backroom and continued on through a little walkway into the greenhouse, which seemed big already from the outside, but from the inside was absolutely enormous. "Some flowers need different amounts of light than others," Phil narrated as they walked, "So some are kept in the dark all day, and some are kept in the light. And we use a special mixture of fertilizer to grow the flowers in, which is why some people notice they are extremely high quality."

Dan was completely in awe as they walked through the greenhouse, walking along rows upon rows of greens and purples and yellows, every color one could imagine and some that felt brand new to Dan. "Yes," he muttered dreamily, "I noticed." 

Phil glanced around to make sure the door was closed and they were alone. His easy, carefree expression melted away, being replaced by one of.... concern? "Dan, what are you doing here? What happened?" 

Dan blinked a few times, trying to snap out of his daze. "Yes.... Um, I wanted to see you." He mentally kicked himself for being so awkward. "I mean... the flowers. I wanted to see the... gardens!"

Phil cocked his head, letting a little smile poke through. "Huh. For some reason, I don't completely believe you." 

"Well, you should," Dan argued indignantly. "I'm a man who likes flowers, get over it." 

This caused Phil to laugh, and oh, Dan wanted to melt at the sound. So light, so carefree.... he couldn't stop his feet from rushing him forwards slamming his lips against Phil's, kissing him desperately. Phil stepped back in shock, but after a moment kissed back lightly before pushing Dan away. "Dan... what was that?" He looked even more surprised at Dan's actions than Dan was. "I mean... it was good. I like kissing you," he muttered, blushing. "But... why'd you do that?" 

Dan's heart was pounding. They didn't have much time, before someone came in, or at least questioned what they were up to. He'd have to speak fast. "These past few days have been miserable," he spoke quickly, trying to get it all out before they were caught. "I missed you, Phil, I really really missed you and I can't sleep and I feel so empty without you, and I tried to move on, I really did! But I couldn't, because I have feelings for you, and I can't-" 

Someone pushed the door open, entering the greenhouse and grabbing some containers off the ground, whistling as they left. Dan tried to catch his breath. 

"And I can't- and I miss- and, Phil, I just-"   
"Woah there, calm down," Phil offered, placing a hand on his arm comfortingly. "I missed you too." 

And all of a sudden, Dan didn't feel quite so empty. "I'm sorry for barging in," he offered. "How about you show me some of the flowers?"

\---- 

Dan went home beaming, happier than he had been all week. He and Phil had talked for hours, about flowers, about life. Apparently, Phil didn't want to work at the flower shop forever. He dreamed of leaving the town where he'd lived all his life and going somewhere new, he didn't care where, just somewhere far away where he could plant his own flowers, and start a shop of his own. "Most people don't know the right way to grow flowers," he had said, gently caressing a brightly colored tulip. "They think all flowers need the same amount of sunlight, the same amount of water, everything. And I want to show them that... well, flowers are like people. They're all unique, and not everyone needs the same things."

At that point, Dan thought of the boys once more. They were to be arrested because they loved each other instead of women like everyone expected them to. _"They're unique, and not everyone needs the same things."_

Phil had also given Dan a rather gorgeous bouquet, full of deep purples and blues, and the darkest red roses Dan had ever seen. Dan had asked what they stood for, but Phil insisted he decipher it himself on his own time. Then, before he left, Phil pulled him into another kiss and asked when they could see each other again. 

"At the river? Tonight?" He begged, their bodies so close they could be imprisoned just for all the contact. 

Dan wanted to say yes, but instead, shook his head. "Rose wants me to take her to a play tonight. Can we do it tomorrow?"

Biting his lip, Phil looked away. "No. I'll be working at a wedding that day, they ordered dozens of roses." 

Dan snorted. "Clichés." 

"But the day after that? Please?" 

He inhaled, wondering what he was doing, how he was allowing himself to fall so hard for this man. "Yes. At the stream." 

"I'll see you then," Phil offered. 

"Yes," Daniel agreed. "I will see you then."   
And then they kissed, and Dan never wanted it to end.

 

\------ 

But it did end. And before too long, Dan was back in his best formal suit, with his wife at his elbow, and he was painfully reminded that his life might not have room for Phil in it. 

Rose kept talking to him, and Daniel smiled and laughed, but didn't put much effort into conversing with her. For whatever reason, it felt wrong. He felt as if he had to make a choice, but didn't know what the choice was. 

He thought of it all throughout the play, and in bed, staring at his ceiling. His wife slept with him again that night, however, their clothes remained on. He hoped she wasn't going to make a habit of it. Not that he didn't like having someone with him in the emptiness of the night- on the contrary, he liked it too much. Daniel was a lonely man, who enjoyed the warmth of a person next to him.

But there was that choice, the allusive decision that Daniel must make, but by then he had figured what it meant. One of the other, a choice between two objects of affection. Because surely Daniel loved his wife as much, if not more than the florist? This was safe, he was happy- what was there to decide?

Except for the fact that Daniel wasn't ready to let the florist go from his mind. So instead, he pondered the question endlessly, not allowing himself a choice. Maybe... there was a third option? After all, why did Daniel have to sacrifice his safety for love? Why did he have to sacrifice anything at all? 

So when he saw Phil again, Daniel allowed himself to kiss the man, under the darkness of night and the watchful gaze of the moon. And he allowed himself to lie in bed with his wife when he got home, and pushed the guilt aside. 

He had been forcing himself to choose one or the other, Rose or Phil, safety or love. But why couldn't he have both?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want part 4, (most likely) the final part! For more of my fanfics, check out my tumblr [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/), and you can send in a oneshot request [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask)!


	4. Chapter 4

Life at the estate was back to normal, besides the absence of the two servants who ran away, and of course, the fact that Dan found himself making more and more excuses to go to the city and see Phil. They saw each other multiple times a week, either when Phil dropped off flowers for Rose, when Dan snuck into the flowershop to place his order, or when they both snuck out to the river where they kissed under the moonlight. 

Dan needed an excuse to be at the flowershop so often. People were beginning to notice. Each time he went, Dan thought of a quote he'd known since childhood- _If a man writes his wife a sonnet, then he loves her. But if a man writes his wife a hundred sonnets, he loves sonnets._ He worried people would realize he went to get flowers for the sake of being with Phil, not for his wife. 

Though he admitted, she was always so thankful for the flowers, especially the roses. Rose had had a liking for them since she was a girl- as of course, she was named after them. Dan liked making her happy. It validated him. But he liked choosing out the flowers more. 

Phil owned a book similar to Dan's, an encyclopedia of flowers, though Phil seldom needed it. They would walk along the rows and rows of beautiful flowers- Dan swore the greenhouse got bigger each time he entered it- and Dan would point out a flower to add to the bouquet. Sometimes Phil would give him a smirk, and a cocky response. "Yellow and white irises Dan? Really?" 

"What?" 

Phil glanced around quickly before tugging Dan closer. "Yellow irises symbolize _passion _and_ lust_." 

Dan giggled, something he didn't do around anyone but Phil. "Yeah? And white ones?"

Phil tugged his lower lip between his teeth, biting it as he whispered, "purity." 

Sometimes Phil would just laugh at Dan's choices. "What? It looks nice!" 

"Dan, that flower represents death." 

Then Dan would try to look ashamed, all while hiding in his smile. "Oh. I just liked it because it was black." 

Dan snuck in during the least busy hours of the day, when Phil told him less people would be going in and out of the greenhouse. He left through the front door, after paying for his bouquet at the front desk. Still, he had Phil hand deliver it the next day- supposedly because he wanted to give the florist time to arrange it nicely with greenery, actually because he wanted an excuse to see Phil as much as possible. 

But just the flowers were not a good enough excuse to see him so often, so Dan had to come up with another plan, which he told Phil one night at the river. 

"A party?" Phil asked, confused. 

Dan nodded. "Roses birthday is in a month. I'll throw her a huge party, with tons of flowers. That I'll have to approve personally, of course." 

The party would be the event of the year. Dan wanted to make it as big as possible, so he invited as many people as he could- all higher class, of course. He scheduled musicians, caterers, the works. He'd have to go into the city often to buy everything and talk to everyone. And of course, he'd have to plan out all of the flowers. 

Dan didn't tell Rose about the party, but he suspected she knew. He had no doubt that the society woman she spent with during teatime had let her in on the secret. He didn't mind, though. The party was simply an excuse, to see Phil more. 

And it would make Rose happy, blah blah blah. She was his security. Phil was his passion. 

And it worked. For about a month, Dan was seeing Phil constantly as he planned for the party. Everything was going just perfect- that is, until the day of the party.

\---

Everyone was bustling around, preparing everything for the party. Dan had already sent Rose into the city to be made up nicely, though his servants could have done just as well, he was sure. This way, she was out of the house for them to set up and everyone to come inside for the surprise. 

Dan had to rent a carriage for her, as the two gay boys who ran away had stolen his horses. He really should've gotten new ones by now, but he rather liked walking to the city, enjoying the time to himself and admiring the flowers along the road. It wasn't dignified, but as of late, Dan had been caring less and less about what was dignified and what was not. 

He could rent a carriage when he went somewhere with Rose. Otherwise, he didn't need horses. 

The party was almost set up when guests started arriving, which meant they were behind schedule. Dan rushed around, trying to maintain his composure and not get things done at the same time. There were only a few guests at the moment, but more were surely on their way. 

Dan had of course, rented out more help for the night, which he ordered about, trying to keep the stress out of his voice. Tablecloths needed straightening, napkins set out, the food wasn't set up, and the flowers- actually, the flowers were just perfect. He and Phil had chosen a warm pallet, and while they hadn't chosen the flowers based on the messages, Dan knew they were present. Pale pinks that stood for childish romance. Red roses, for love, of course, though Dan knew the love wasn't for Rose. And yellow roses, dozens of the hey them- the same hue that Dan had had at his wedding. Jealousy. It was a sly message from Phil, claiming him subtly, as if saying "Dan's mine, and if you knew the truth Rose, you would have a right to be jealous." 

But Dan tried not to think about it too much. 

But before too long, everything, and everyone were in place. Someone spotted Rose's carriage coming up the driveway, and everyone went to hide behind tables and such, the ladies clinging to the walls and trying to hide their huge garish dresses behind simple pillars. They failed, but the thought was there. 

Dan was about to step in place when someone stopped him. "You forgot something," Phil said softly, keeping his gaze low and respectful as he brushed off Dan's suit. Pulling something from his pocket, Phil tucked a sweet, soft sprig of flowers- corianders- into Dan's lapel. "For you," he whispered, his lips barely moving. 

Then he was gone, and Dan found himself moving to his place in a trace, not looking at it, but knowing that the sweet, white coriander was with him. It was Phil's gift to him, and Dan knew what it stood for. 

_Lust._

The doors swung open, revealing Rose. Her hands shot to her mouth in awe. 

"Surprise!" 

Dan smiled, widely, and rushed to her side. "You... you..." she stuttered, in absolute shock. 

"Happy Birthday, Darling," he said sweetly, and loud enough for his guests to hear. And then, because it felt right, he leant down and kissed her. 

The audience guffawed at the blatant display of affection. _If only they knew,_ Dan thought to himself, but there was too much to do and too much to show her for there to be any time for thoughts like that. 

"Daniel... you... you... it's beautiful, I... I feel like I might faint!"

He laughed lightly. "Well, let me know if you're going to, and I'll catch you." 

Rose was still in shock. "It's just... the flowers, the roses-!"

"Just like our wedding."

"You remembered!" 

Dan looked to the side, where Phil stood by one of the tables, his hands folded as he looked on uncomfortably. "Of course I remembered," Dan muttered. He looked away, shaking his head as if waking up. "Now, let me show you everything!"

\--

Everything went almost perfectly. Dan walked around with his wife at his hip, his hand on her waist as they talked to their friends, everyone laughing and wishing her a happy birthday. When Dan left to check on something, he heard Rose's teatime friends applaud her quietly. "I wish _my_ husband was this faithful."

_Faithful_. It was a strange word, because at that time, with Dan standing a few feet away, it meant a few things. The lady who used it meant faithful as in _loving, caring, devoted._ But faithful also meant _loyal._

_Which he was not._

Dan found a butler, and told him of the problem which Dan was asked to address- a broken plate or something, he didn't really care- and was about to go back to his wife when someone stopped him. 

"It's a beautiful party," Phil said with an air of respect- manufactured respect. Phil was lying through his teeth. 

Dan wided his eyes, forcing himself not to step back- or forwards, into the man's embrace. Instead, he stood taller, smiling proudly, like he was supposed to. "Thank you. And the flowers you picked out are truly lovely, though I had no doubts of your work." _People were watching._ "Rose adores your arrangements." 

Phil narrowed his eyes. They had gotten to know each other quite well, from the months they'd been together. Even from the beginning of their relationship, they'd spoken in code. This was a different type of code, but they could speak it all the same. 

"I'm glad she likes my arrangements." 

_Translation: Of course she likes my arrangements. It's too bad she doesn't know what they really mean._

Dan laughed uncomfortably. "They are really beautiful, you should be proud." 

_Translation: Simmer down, your going to get us in trouble._

"Which do you think she likes best?" 

_Translation: I don't like her._

"The yellow roses, definitely. We had them at our wedding, you know."

_She is still my wife, play nice._

Phil tilted his head. He was _not_ smiling. "I love that flower in your lapel. You know it stands for, yes?" 

_I want you._

Dan turned away. "Yes, it is nice. It's been nice talking to you, thank you for your flowers." He turned, and left with a small wave of his hand. 

_Keep it in your pants, horndog_. 

Returned to his wife felt weird, like Dan couldn't remember the right way to hold out his elbow. But it didn't matter, because just then, the music got a bit louder, and Rose squealed in delight. "Oh Dan, the dancing is starting!" 

So what was he to say besides offering her to dance?

\---

To understand what happened next, you have to understand the etiquette of the era, and the importance of dance. People did not come to parties for the conversations, or the food, or anything else that you might expect. No, people came for the _dance._

Dancing was also a popular form of flirtation that was commonly used among people of their class- _their class_ meaning Dan and Rose's, and the guests invited to the party. Phil was a lower class, as he was a worker. Class climbing was common, but Dan would be looked down on if he were to marry a female florist instead of Rose. That's how out of limits Phil was. 

He was a man; he was a lower class; and Dan was married. Truly, they had no hope. 

But back to dancing. A popular form of flirtation, one dance was a nice gesture, two dances was something serious, and three dances meant that you should expect a proposal soon. It was as simple as that.

As Dan and Rose were married, they could dance with each other as much as they wanted, but they could also dance freely with other people- just not more than once. 

The night waned on until it was very late indeed, and everyone kept dancing. They were fast paced, coreographed dances with lots of complicated movements and spins set to music. You came to a party knowing all the dances, or you had to be a quick learner. 

But these dances were classics. Everyone who was anyone knew them, and they danced the night away. 

Everything was going perfectly. Until Dan looked over Roses shoulder, and caught Phil's eyes. 

He stumbled and almost fell. Only the fact that he was holding Roses hands kept him from falling on his face. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, with genuine concern. 

Dan faked a smile, feeling his cheeks go red. "I'm fine, just a little tired." 

"If you need, you can take a break," Rose offered, still moving easily to the rythum. 

"I'm fine." And Dan was. Until he glanced at Phil again, and found him smirking. He had seen Dan trip up- and he was proud. 

Dan stumbled again, and this time it took longer to recover. Rose looked on with worry, but didn't say anything. 

Dan refused to look at Phil again. He went a full minute, maybe too, before accidentally looking over and seeing Phil's arms crossed, his expression smuger than ever. 

Dan all but threw himself on the floor, he slipped so badly. "Dan, please rest," Rose begged, helping him up. 

Dan shook her off him, dusting himself off. "Fine. I just need some fresh air, I'll be back soon." 

He didn't need to glance at Phil for Phil to know to follow, as Dan left out the garden doors, walking briskly. He knew Phil had followed him. 

He turned, and then went through a different door back inside. The door opened again and closed behind him. 

Dan opened the door to a closet and quickly closed it behind him. None of his staff would be in this part of the building, no one would see as Phil opened the door and entered the dark space, the space so small their bodies were already pressed together as their lips connected, rich, harsh open mouthed kisses that made Dan gasp as Phil forced his jacket off, unbuttoning the first few buttons on Dan's shirt so roughly he almost ripped them off. Their bodies moved together so aggressively Dan could barely breathe through his continuous moans in the tight, dark closet. 

"You thought you could get away with it?" Phil mumbled darkly, placing rough kissing along his neck and on his chest, where his collar would hide. Dan moaned quietly, as Phil spoke, words spiked with poison. "You thought you could play us both, pretending and toying and making both of us think you gave the other no love?" 

Phil bit down harshly, and Dan yelped, but he didn't stop. 

That is when the disaster happened. Because in that moment, in the dark, with his wife waiting only a few rooms away, Phil had Dan wrapped so tightly around his finger that Dan couldn't think of anyone, of anything else other than him. 

Dan couldn't split his love up between the two anymore, because Phil- Phil had won. Phil had stolen everything from Dan, and Dan would gladly give it, give it all, to him. 

"You have to choose," Phil whispered. "I'm leaving now. Wait here a few minutes, so no one gets suspicious." 

He turned to go, but Dan grabbed him with equal force, kissing him just as roughly as Phil had kissed him. Then he let go, pushing him back. "Go."

And Phil left. And Dan was left gasping as he slid down the closet wall, knowing without Phil, he'd never be able to breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr dedicated purely to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/)! (On Ao3, I post my favorite chaptered fics that I've written, but I don't post any oneshots on here, so you have to check out my tumblr to see those). You can also request a phanfic [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask)! Please comment and tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

The hickeys from the previous night were darkened into small bruises, their origin clear to anyone who might see them. Because of them, Dan was forced to wear a collared shirt or jacket. After all, if Rose saw them, she'd know they weren't her doing. Rose never left marks like that- they were much too rough for her liking- and besides, ever since Phil left, Dan had hardly touched his wife. After the party ended, they went their separate ways, Rose to take off the expensive makeup and clothes, and Dan to quickly shed his clothes and fall into bed, and hope that no one came in. 

They rose late and had a very quiet day, almost strangely so. The maids and servants finished cleaning up from the party, sweeping solemnly. Dan read his paper. Rose sewed. They sipped tea in the same room, though they hardly even looked at each other. 

Dan tried to read the paper, he really did. But he just couldn't turn his thoughts off. The night before, he'd been so exhausted and it had been so late, that he had no trouble turning off his mind and turning in. But now, under the refreshment of daylight, Dan had to confront the thoughts gnawing at his mind. Phil's voice in the closet, deep and sensual, though it could hardly hide his hurt. 

_"You thought you could play us both?"_

Dan had felt line he needed to make a choice- Phil or Rose. And he'd made /a/ choice, though perhaps ignoring the problem only added to it. Dan supposed that he had been cowardly, choosing the third choice that was never an option. 

It always came back to the same issues. Love or safety? Wrong... or right?

Before Dan's father had passed away, he'd been a list maker. He made lists for every decision, every occasion; bedtime, money, parties, gambling, books, clothes, people. So Dan sighed, pulled out a piece of paper, and began to write. 

**_Rose_ **   
_Pros:_  
safe option  
stay living at home   
rich  
good life  
nice  
already married 

It was a pretty solid list. Dan moved on to Phil's pros:

 

**_Phil_**  
 _Pros:_  
-

Dan grunted. This felt wrong, and he didn't even know what to write. Closing his eyes, Dan forced himself to put the pen back on paper and write.

**_Phil_ **   
_Pros:_  
\- flowers  
\- butterflies in stomach  
\- love being around him  
\- kisses  
\- beatif- 

"Dan?"

He almost jumped out of his seat. "Mmhm?" He mumbled, lips pressed together. 

Rose's brows were creased. "I was just wondering what you were writing."

"Oh, just some ideas. It's nothing." 

It wasn't the answer Rose wanted, but she mumbled an "oh" and went back to her sewing. 

Dan looked at his list. He felt like a kid again, weighing the pros and cons of catching a mouse from one of the gardens and hiding it inside, or stealing one of his father's books to read. This was childish; shouldn't he just know the right answer? 

Why couldn't he have both?

_"You have to choose."_ Phil's voice resurfaced in Dan's memory, making him shake his head in annoyance. If he chose to stay married to Rose, and continue his affair with Phil, then Phil would leave him. He was right back to where he started. 

The choice felt obvious. The problem was, Dan didn't know which one was the obvious answer. 

He pulled out a fresh piece of paper, with no list on it, and scribbled down a new request for flowers- "something pretty with cattails in it". He needed to see Phil, to talk to him about his struggled choosing. And that sort of talk could only be had in the dark, with no one around to see them. 

Dan looked at his lists again, realizing he hadn't added any cons. He quickly scribbled in the headers, then slowly added to each list. 

**_()Rose()_ **   
_Cons:_  
unsure about love?  
arranged marriage 

**_Phil_ **   
_Cons:_  
man  
I'm married  
we couldn't stay here  
abandoning Rose 

It was a con that Phil was a man, of course, because no matter where they could possibly go, Dan didn't know if they could ever be accepted living together. It truly wasn't reasonable. 

Dan sent to request for flowers, and waited.

\----

"I didn't know if I'd hear from you again," Phil muttered, walking forwards. He wore a thick jacket that concealed most of his form. It was another full moon, with the light shining off of it just enough for Dan to see the shadows on his lover's face, maybe just from the darkness, but maybe from lack of sleep. Dan knew the feeling; tossing and turning all night long, miserable in your thoughts. 

Dan stepped forwards too, until they were close enough to see the color of each other’s eyes. Less than an arm’s length apart, though they did not touch. 

"Of course you'd hear from me," Dan said, answering Phil's question. "Why wouldn't you?"

The dark figure shrugged. "Didn't know. Thought that maybe, you'd made your choice." 

It had been a few days since the party, and they hadn't seen each other since. This night felt different from the other night, colder, more dangerous. Something was going to go wrong. The question was- what?

Dan examined Phil's face, pale in the moonlight. His blue eyes were gray in the dim, and yes, his eyebags were more present than usual. He was an ominous figure, though he smelt of flowers. 

"I wanted to talk to you, about that actually," the brown haired man said, shifting uncomfortably. "I need help making the choice." 

Phil looked up with an emotion that Dan couldn't read - anger? Disgust? Lack of understanding? "You want me... to help you choose? So you're saying there's a choice?" 

Dan stepped back, his hands twitching nervously. "Of course there's a choice! Phil, this is my life, I can't just throw it away, just like that!" 

He expected Phil to retaliate. He expected to get in a full-fledged screaming match. Instead, the man stayed quiet. A few yards away, the river trickled quietly, and crickets chirped. Dan's breaths were audible. 

Phil bit his lip, his face fully illuminated by the glow of the moon. "I have a life too," he said quietly, his voice racked with pain. "I have a job. A house. Friends. And I'd give it up, for love. For _you_." He turned away as if it were too painful to look at Dan. "At least, I thought I would." 

A branch crunched somewhere nearby, and their gazes both shot up, looking for the source. No noises followed. 

"Probably an animal," Daniel suggested, his mouth dry. "Dogs come out this time of night," he added, unhelpfully. 

Phil shook his head, still upset. "I'm not a second option. I- I want to get married."   
Dan looked up, observing his features. 

"I want to get married, maybe not now, but some day. I want a family. What we have now, sneaking around, pretending.... it doesn't work for me. I need something real."

"This is real." 

Phil hesitated. "I need something... that I can count on. I'm done waiting for your messages, if I'm going to be in a relationship, I'm going to do it right." 

Dan licked his lips, looking away. "How would we do it, anyway. Phil... we're two men! We can't get married!" 

His voice raised again, but Phil's remained slow and steady, solid. "I don't know," he said, his voice firm. "But I refuse to keep doing this. You have to make a choice." 

Anger filled Dan's stomach, making him feel almost sick. /Who does he think he is?/ Dan thought. _I can't just give everything I've ever known up!_

"Fine!" He spat. "Then I'm staying with my wife. Relationships are all about compromise, Phil, and if you can't respect my needs, then maybe we should just leave each other alone!"

Phil's anger showed on his face, but his restraint showed in his hands curled into fists, his stiff posture. "You- fine. If you don't want me, then I'm not sticking around. Find someone else to use!" 

"Fine!" 

"Fine!" 

Phil stormed away, before whirling around, and before he knew what happening, Phil's lips were against his, so rough and forceful and angry that all Dan wanted to do was hold him. And then he was gone. 

And it felt like he had taken Dan's lungs with him.

\---

6 days since he'd seen Phil. 6 days since he'd had a peaceful night’s sleep. 6 days since he'd been kissed. And 6 days since he'd done just about anything. 

A few weeks ago, Dan had liked his bed okay. It was a nice bed, who cared? But now, he loved his bed. "Who needs Phil," he would whisper into the piles of blankets, "when I have you?"

Despite all the time he'd spent in bed, his eyebags just grew. Rose had had a doctor come over and check him out, and the results were inconclusive. "You should try going for a walk, or having a nice meal," the doctor suggested helpfully. 

Dan groaned and rolled over, yanking the covers over his head. "I don't want to go on a walk!" He whined the words completely distorted by the pillow he talked into. 

On the fifth day, one of the maids came in, a bright blush on her cheeks. "Mr. Howell?"

"You woke me up!" Daniel complained loudly, though that wasn't true. "I don't care, just ask Rose." 

"I don't know if you want Rose to see this." She explained nervously, holding a piece of paper. 

Dan narrowed his eyes. "What does that say? Read it to me." He seldom snapped at maids like that, but he was miserable, and if he was miserable than everyone else should be too. 

The blush on the maid's cheeks spread. "Um... Rose. Pros. Safe option, stay living at home..."

Dan's eyes widened as he realized what it was. "Give that to me!" He ordered, practically yelling. 

The maid, a young woman- still a girl, practically- winced and rushed it over to him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to find it, I didn't read any of it but to see who it belonged to, I won't tell-" 

Dan snatched the paper from her hands and stuffed it in his mouth, eating it while the girl watched in horror. "There!" He announced, as soon as he'd swallowed it. How could he have been so stupid as to leave that in the open? "You are not to say a word of this to anyone, you hear me!" 

The maid nodded, almost in tears. Normally, Dan would feel remorse, but he was too busy being furious with himself to care. "You can go now, I don't care." 

She scurried away, closing the door quickly behind her. Dan rolled over so his voice was muffled by a pillow, and screamed.

"You're being completely foolish, and it's not to be tolerated any longer," the butler said, fixing Daniels suit indignantly. 

Dan rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, just been a bit ill lately."

"You've been a complete twat, if you don't mind me saying it," the butler argued, continuing to find things to adjust on Dan's suit. "Girls, get some powder or something for his eyes, he looks like he hadn't slept for a month!" 

"I'm fine, thank you." 

"You're hideous," the butler argued. "If you don't mind me saying so." 

"I do mind. I should have you fired," Dan threatened, his voice plain and seriously. 

The man's eyes sparkled. "I'd like to see you try." 

Dan was dressed in the most uncomfortable, unnecessarily costly suit that money could buy. In the latest fashion, it included multiple layers with a long, dark jacket on top- miserable for such a warm day- a buttoned, white shirt, a dark vest, long, well fitted pants, and a top hat over his messy, coffee colored fringe. 

The suit was too warm, too stiff, too unnatural. There was no doubt in Dan's mind that it was bought for him as a sort of punishment, for the way he'd been treating everybody lately. 

Makeup covered his dark circles, and when he looked in the mirror, it reminded him of what corpses look like, all dressed up in their caskets; tailored and nice, but definitely not alive. 

Dan was lead to his front hallway, where Rose was waiting. She looked as beautiful and tailored as ever, her maids having styled her nicely in the newest fashions as well. Ever stiffly, they linked arms, and walked out to the carriage awaiting them. 

They took a day trip to the city, going shopping in the stores and eating a small meal. Dan's senses were heightened, and despite still being exhausted, he appreciated the fresh air, the good food, even the flowers they saw every so often. In fact, he was almost in a good mood when a police officer came jogging up to them as they window shopped, calling them over. 

"Is there a problem officer?" Dan inquired politely, though his heart raced. 

The officer breathed heavily, the smog of the city making exercise even harder. "We've been trying to get in contact with you, but everyone we've talked to has said you were sick in bed, and refused to have guests." 

Dan cleared his throat awkwardly, "yes, a simple ailment, I'm fine now. What seems to be the problem?"

"We've arrested a man on... crimes of the indecent." He lowered his voice, leaning in. "A Mr. Phil Lester was seen a few nights ago engaging in... homosexual activity. We apprehended him, and are currently holding him in a cell here in the city as we figure everything out. I understand you knew him?"

_Oh God, Phil._ "He was just my florist." 

"Well we can use whatever help we can get to figure this out. Would you mind coming to the station and talking with us a bit?" 

"Of course not. Rose, you should-" 

"You're wife too, if you don't mind. We need a few different perspectives on the man, to see if perhaps whatever homosexual acts he may have committed, have been going on for a while now." 

Dan nodded quickly, his entire being shaking. _Phil, my Phil, in jail._ He imagined the poor man hunched over in some too small cell, no sunlight, no flowers for him to tend to. Dan had been in bed for nearly a week- how long has Phil already spent behind bars?

And then there was that other matter, the matter of his crimes. Someone must have been watching them that night they fought. Did they know it was Dan? The police didn't seem suspicious of him, in any case, but anyone could have seen them, anyone could have been there. Phil's voice had been quiet and careful, but Dan had thrown caution to the wind with his actions, loud, angry yelling at Phil. Whoever watched them likely didn't see their faces, but they heard their voices and saw their figures well enough to know it was two men. Dan recalled his yelling, _Phil this_ and _Phil that_ , announcing his lover's name to the world while he kept his a secret.

And then they kissed, and it was clear what was going on to anyone who might have seen. 

Phil was in jail, and it was all Dan's fault.   
\---

 

Phil was sat on the hard floor of the cell, wearing nothing but a simple shirt and pants, no jacket, no hat. His clothes had small rips in them, like moth holes, and his entire form was covered in a layer of dust and grime. 

_Oh Phil, what have they reduced you to? _The once cheery, colorful flower enthusiast was reduced to human waste. Dan scanned the cell, hoping to see dandelions poking through the dirt, something, anything for Phil to watch over. Any shred of plant life, Dan knew would give Phil hope. But alas, there was none.__

__The battered and bruised boy didn't look up when he and Rose entered, staring at him in quiet horror._ _

__Dan's stomach felt weak, but he forced himself forwards._ _

__"Um.... Phil... Lester?" Dan started, not sure what to say. The man's eyes shot up and stared Dan and Rose down, the blue so intense against all the greys that his gaze seemed to send chills all over Dan's body. "We're here to talk to you. We were asked if we could talk to you... about the other night, when you kissed another man."_ _

__Phil didn't seem to hear them. He looked at both Rose and Dan with distaste, his eyes wandering over their forms, observing their clothes, their eyes. It felt as though those eyes could see straight through them, seeing past the eye makeup and fake formalities, reading Dan's thoughts._ _

__Dan's hands trembled. Rose clutched his arm tighter. "I'm supposed to ask you who the man you were kissing was."_ _

__Phil wouldn't talk to the police. They were hoping someone else could get him to talk._ _

__"It was a boy from a brothel," Phil grumbled quietly, his voice light and airy despite the disuse. "We met in the woods. We argued over prices, and then we kissed. I... I wanted to try it out, see if the reason I couldn't find a wife was because I didn't want one."_ _

__The statement was bold. But Dan couldn't help seeing that despite everything he had done to Phil, the florist still protected him._ _

__Dan was dressed in the tight, restrictive yet expensive clothing, while Phil was dressed in rags and filth. Dan wanted to reach out to him and say _"this is not who we truly are."_ But he couldn't. _ _

__Dan looked back at the police, who motioned for him to continue. "Um, did you plan on meeting with this... prostitute.... again?"_ _

__Phil shook his head. "It was a mistake."_ _

__Dan's heart sank. "Right. Of course. And... Do you regret it?"_ _

__Phil stared at him with such solidarity, it made Dan weak in the knees. "Yes."_ _

___Not even a little.__ _

__"And you're saying this boy meant nothing to you?"_ _

__"Correct."_ _

___He meant the world to me.__ _

__"And if released, would you engage in such behavior again?"_ _

__"No."_ _

___Not if you're still married.__ _

__"It will be a while before he is released," the officer interrupted. "My guess is two years, minimum. He'll be moved to another facility Wednesday morning, a longer term one." He eyes Dan. "You might want to get a new florist."_ _

__Dan's heart sank._ _

__"Let's go," Rose whispered hopefully._ _

__Dan nodded weakly. "Well... in that case, yes, I suppose we'll just have to find someone knew. It's a shame, but I'm sure it can be done. Have a good day, officer."_ _

__"You too, thanks for your help."_ _

__Dan turned and left, refusing to look back over his shoulder. But even without looking, he knew Phil was still sitting there, watching him with those piercing blue eyes._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr dedicated purely to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/)! (On Ao3, I post my favorite chaptered fics that I've written, but I don't post any oneshots on here, so you have to check out my tumblr to see those). You can also request a phanfic [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask)! Please comment and tell me what you think!
> 
> (The final part of Yellow Roses comes out Aug 15th, unless you can convince me to publish it sooner!)


	6. Chapter 6

Two days. Dan had less than two days before Phil was moved to another prison, who knows how far away. Then it would surely be years before they ever saw each other again- _if_ they saw each other again.

Phil would be moved on Wednesday morning, the officer had said. That was Sunday afternoon, and now it was the next day, already afternoon, meaning in less than 36 hours he'd be gone. It wasn't enough time. 

Dan rushed around like a madman, trying to hide his insanity from his wife and the workers, but failing miserably. He had lain in bed for hours, making hard choices. There was too much to do, too much to decide, but Dan did it. He couldn't procrastinate on this choice.

Two bags, filled with basic food, clothes, and two hunting knives, though Dan wasn't sure what they might need them for. He had to be prepared for anything, and two bags were all he got. 

A few days ago, if Dan were to look around his estate, he would see a lot of things of value. Expensive furniture, trinkets that had been in the family for generations, rare pieces that few others possessed. Now, he just saw them as _things_. And he had no room for them. 

Two bags was far too small, but he _had_ to be reasonable. He'd lived a life filled with measly possessions, and now he was choosing something far greater. 

A few days ago, money was something Dan used without care. He all but threw it away; after all, he had far more than he needed. But now.... now he had to be careful. He had to make wise choices, and wisdom was never Dan's strong suit.  
Dan went to the city, walking straight past the prison where he knew Phil was being held, and going to the bank. Afterwards, he rushed around a few shops, getting more of what was needed, possibly more than what could fit in the bags, but Dan was scared. 

He was in the middle of a shop when he froze, and fear coursed through his veins. _Horses._ The estate and stable boy took his horses! 

Well, it was too late now. 

Despite his racing heart, Dan forced himself to sit and eat, watching the police station. It was small, with only one or two people watching prisoners at one time- and right now, there was only one prisoner to watch. 

_Oh Phil,_ Dan thought mournfully. _What have they done to you?_ He could still picture his lover's face, covered in filth. This boy, this man, ever sweet and full of life, was reduced to a pile of rags on the floor. Dan wondered if Phil had managed to retain his sanity, sitting in that dark cell with no plants, nothing to tend to. Phil needed flowers to survive, and without them, Dan feared Phil would lose part of himself. 

On his way out of the town, Dan went to the flower shop where Phil worked and asked to buy as many seeds as possible, from as many plants as possible. They gave him a strange look, but complied. 

Back at the estate, Dan locked all of the doors to his chambers, and began to pack. _Two bags were far too small._

When he was just about done, Dan looked over and saw the book with the meanings of flowers, and wanted to sob. He looked at his bags. There was no room. He had to leave it. 

The bags were hidden, and one more was retrieved. It was small and common, just big enough for what Dan needed; room for a frying pan, and some fabric. For the fabric, Dan got out one of the knives and tore his curtains into strips. 

By then it was already past midnight, and Dan's heart raced. He needed his sleep. 

_But more than anything, he wanted Phil_.

Dan woke up late, but it didn't matter. He was done packing. 

He allowed himself to go slowly; eating breakfast with his wife, whom he couldn't stop staring at. So many words needed to be said, but he couldn't say them, not here, not now. 

He bathed, asking a maid to draw him the hottest, most luxurious bath possible. Lying among the suds and rose petals, the bath perfumed with rich lavender, Dan allowed himself a laugh. One last hurrah, a bath fit for a king! Then he could say goodbye to this life, once and for all. 

Daniel walked among his gardens, carrying his meaning of flowers book freely. 

"Mr. Howell, would you-"

"Not now," he interrupted, not even looking up. "I'm busy." 

He stayed in the gardens for hours. Dan was a gentleman in every sense of the word, and never was he supposed to drop his poise, never supposed to be anything but regal. 

He barged into the kitchen- where he was not supposed to be, the kitchen was for servants only- and grabbed some food, whatever looked good. Some of the food being prepared was clearly for Rose, but Dan didn't care. He took what he wanted and went outside, lying in a patch of grass in the gardens and eating with his hands. The grass was so soft, he took a nap. 

When he woke, the sun was just going down. _Perfect_. His stomach twisted, both in fear, and excitement. It was almost time. 

Consulting the book of flowers, Dan went along and picked a few, enough for a sweet, but simple bouquet. He went to his chambers, and sat down, writing a note. 

Then Dan sat on his bed and waited. 

\----

One hour until midnight- aka, Dan's cue to leave. 

The workers were all in bed; so was Rose. She had wanted to sleep with him, but Dan told her he wanted nothing less. 

"It's not you, it's me. I'm sick." He then coughed unenthusiastically. Rose wasn't convinced, but turned to leave. 

"Wait!" Dan called out, and pulled her in for one last kiss. "You've been an excellent wife." 

Though surprised, she kissed him back. "And you're an excellent husband. And someday, you'll be an excellent father." 

"Good night, my Rose." 

"I'll see you in the morning, my love." 

But she wouldn't. Because when the clock struck eleven, Dan was climbing out his window, the three bags over his shoulder, a dark cloak covering his form. 

"Goodbye," he whispered. 

\---

It was late at night, though Phil didn't know how late. The cell was cold, and filthy, and the officer watching him was bland and boring, refusing to talk with him. He called him some awful names, all of which rolled off Phil's shoulders like dew drops off flower petals. 

The officer currently read a book, and Phil half sat, half laid against the stone wall behind him. 

He was half asleep when a door opened quietly from the outside, a stranger cloaked in black letting himself in. 

"Hey, you're not-"

The figure yanked something from their cloak and swung it in one swift move, hitting the officer and knocking him senseless. Moving quickly, the figure reached in a bag and pulled out strips of fabric, tying the unconscious officer. 

Phil stood and ran towards the front of his cell, gripping the bars in his cold hands, completely silent in shock. Once the officer was completely restrained, the figure stood to his full height, kicking his weapon- _was that a frying pan?_ \- out of the way. He strode to Phil's cell, his confidence and power rolling off his black cloak in waves. 

Phil stood straighter to meet him, his hands gripping the bars so hard they turned white. 

The figure yanked his hood off, revealing soft curls the color of blackened coffee beans, pale pink skin, and these amazing brown eyes that Phil got stuck on. "Dan," he choked out. 

"You didn't think I was going to leave you," Dan purred, his voice as soft as his curls. It was not a question, it was a statement. 

Phil tried to maintain his ground, not completely loose his composure in front of him. "You said you didn't want me," he reminded, the words stinging just as much as the first time. "I gave you a choice, and you chose your wife." 

And there was that pain again, that pain that Phil had been feeling for all of these lonely few days. _Heartbreak_. For Dan was the love of his life, but Phil had to come to terms with the idea that it may not have been mutual. 

Dan looked at him like he was a madman. "Phil, I made a mistake! I was so afraid of losing everything that I'd ever had, so afraid of making the wrong choice!" 

Phil tried to look unimpressed. "And?" 

"And then I realized what I should really be afraid of. Phil... I missed you." 

_That's not good enough. That doesn't make up for what you put me through. There is no way you can possibly expect me to forgive you for using me, lying to me, getting me thrown in prison. I'd have to be out of my mind-_

"I missed you too." He whispered, so quiet Dan could barely hear it. So quiet _he_ could barely hear it.

Dan straightened, staring at Phil so intensely he almost backed away. But he didn't. Instead, Phil stared right back, just as firmly. 

"You told me to make a choice," Dan breathed out. "And you are my choice. I will throw everything away for you, my things, my wife.... my _life_. Because without you, my life is empty." He inhales shakily, closing his eyes for a moment. "Phil.... I want to run away with you. I want to _marry_ you. But you have to choose me too." 

Phil hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled. "Okay." 

Dan waited. 

"Yeah, okay," Phil said, completely devoid of words. "I chose you." 

He gripped Dan's hands, and without any more words, they both leaned forwards so the sides of Phil's face were pressed against the cool metal bars, and they kissed. They weren't allowed. But it didn't matter, because _they had made their choice._

Dan rummaged around the unconscious officer's pockets and retrieved the keys, unlocking Phil's cell and they embraced, just holding each other for a few extended moments. "I love you," Phil exhaled, his entire body choking up with fear of what they were about to do. This was real, so real, and he couldn't be more terrified. 

"I love you too," Dan whispered. "Come on, we have to hurry. I have a bag for you." 

He handed it, along with another dark cloak to Phil, who put them on quickly. "Shall we go?" 

They left into the night, sneaking through the sleeping town wordlessly and slipping into the woods. Dan knew of a man who lived on the edge of the town and owned horses. They would steal them, but for now they traveled on foot, going as fast as they dared through the forest. 

But it was okay. Because they were _together_ , and as long as they had each other, they would manage. 

\---

No one dared break down the door until the next afternoon, already late. If Dan had fallen ill or had been injured, then he needed help. Instead, the found an empty bedroom. 

Rose's eyes darted to a letter on the nightstand. She picked it up in one shaking hand, and read. 

_Rose-_  
I've spent my life playing by rules set out for me. Always, I've made the choice I was supposed to, even if it wasn't what I knew I really wanted. And now, for once, I've decided to follow my heart.  
I won't tell you where I've gone, for I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. I will say that I did care for you. Truly, I did, and I regret leaving you, but if I am to have peace it can't be here. I've left you the house and most of my fortune.  
And Rose- I want you to tell everyone that I died. People know that I was ill, tell them that it killed me. That way, you can take claim to everything I left for you, and you can move on. Marry again. I pray that you will find someone better than I, and will fulfill your dream of having children with them.  
If you still don't know where I went after reading this, then just take a look at my nightstand.  
Take care of yourself.

_-Dan_

Rose stumbled backwards, nearly fainting if not for a servant who caught her. "Call the doctor!" the maid cried out, other servants rushing to help Rose up. 

She folded the note in her trembling hands, seeing spots. 

"Get the smelling salts!" 

_If you still don't know where I went after reading this, then just take a look at my nightstand._ On it, besides where the letter had lain was a vase, delicately placed on top of a bound book entitled "The Meaning Of Flowers." Inside the vase was none other than a dozen.

Yellow.

_Roses._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story, and I hope you enjoyed it! I appreciate your comments so much, so please comment what you think, along with your favorite part of this story! My favorite parts have definetly been Dan being a diva when he was sick in bed, and when he said 'screw this' and took a nap in the gardens in this chapter.
> 
> Check out my tumblr dedicated purely to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/)! (On Ao3, I post my favorite chaptered fics that I've written, but I don't post any oneshots on here, so you have to check out my tumblr to see those). You can also request a phanfic [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask)!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you like it and/or want more!
> 
> I run a blog devoted to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/). This story was inspired by an ask, which you can submit [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask) :)


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